I have a friend, Bear (that’s his tribal name, Running Bear), who spent 6 weeks in the esteemed homeland of Bjork.
He loved it. His plane tickets were for a 2 week trip to attend a wedding, but on the way to the airport for the return trip, Bear says he tore up his ticket and tossed it out the car window. It took four more weeks for his mom to arrange a return trip. (Sneaky bastard.)
Anyway, the only downside, he says, was the food. Fresh vegetables were astronomically expensive, and sold in pots, with soil! You bought a head of lettuce, and ate some, and hoped the rest grew back.
Sheep was the staple. And we’re not talking lambchops and joints of mutton, we’re talking sheeps heads, sheep organs, even sheep nads.
Yes, sheep nads. His most horrifying tale was of sitting down for dinner and being presented with a loaf of whitish ellisoids in a gel… the hostess sliced thick slabs of this loaf and served them up with crackers. That was dinner.
Then there was the wedding, where Bear found the bride’s father out back with a raw sheep’s head and a blowtorch. He was preparing the traditional wedding feast.
There are more tales, but I think I’ll save them for people who can give firsthand accounts.
I would have starved.